


I'll Never Leave You

by KadeAK (zacixn)



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Broken Promises, Dave | Technoblade and Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, Everything Hurts, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Tommyinnit needs a hug, Unhappy Ending, Wilbur Soot Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:19:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27727380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zacixn/pseuds/KadeAK
Summary: "Pogtopia was nothing like L’Manberg, Tommy thought.On a baser level, that made sense. They were holed up in a ravine, with nothing but a potato farm and a desire to save their fallen nation. Pogtopia was never meant to be a happy place, not really – it was a resting point, a bunker, a hiding spot. So, of course it was going to be different. Anything else would have been concerning.That wasn’t the extent of it, though. It wasn’t the new setting that really threw the young rebel off – it was the change in his leader."--Tommy is scared that his brother is beginning to change. Wilbur promises never to leave his side. Unfortunately, things don't go to plan.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s), Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 5
Kudos: 111





	I'll Never Leave You

**Author's Note:**

> This was initially intended for "The Tides of War", but I sort of lost interest in posting it. The Pogtopia section was written on the 29th of September, about ten days before Wilbur's corruption arc.

Pogtopia was nothing like L’Manberg, Tommy thought.

On a baser level, that made sense. They were holed up in a ravine, with nothing but a potato farm and a desire to save their fallen nation. Pogtopia was never meant to be a happy place, not really – it was a resting point, a bunker, a hiding spot. So, of course it was going to be different. Anything else would have been concerning.

That wasn’t the extent of it, though. It wasn’t the new setting that really threw the young rebel off – it was the change in his leader.

Wilbur never seemed to rest anymore. He’d never been a great sleeper even before his rise to power in L’Manberg, always resting lightly and infrequently, but now it seemed to have spiralled. Dark shadows hung under his eyes as he trained day and night, planning and writing and working in any moment he could get his hands on. He seemed paranoid, angry, scared – or maybe a mix of those, Tommy couldn’t quite tell – and it was terrifying.

Even during the war, they’d never been this serious. Sure, they’d been fighting for their lives, but they’d shared many a drink around a campfire, sharing anecdotes and making light conversation.

Now, in this conflict, Tommy would be lucky to even hear his brother laugh. The thought of that made his heart ache. If they lost, would he ever see Wilbur smile again?

… If they won, would things ever be the same? If Tommy lost his brother, was it even possible for him to win at all?

The teenager shook his head roughly at the thought. No, he was thinking irrationally. They’d behead Schlatt, or something cool like that, and then Wilbur would be re-admitted into office, and he’d lead by his brother’s side, and everything would be good and great and awesome. The nation would love them, the people would be free, and they could go back to sharing drinks around the campfire as if they were fresh soldiers again. It was that simple – they were on the right side of History!

(Were they on the right side of History? Was there even a right side?)  
The sound of an axe critically striking wood snapped Tommy out of his thoughts. He’d sat down to take a lunch break, though he honestly was starting to tire of eating only baked potatoes already. Wilbur was still practicing battle forms; a fence post being used in absence of a proper training dummy. The soft wood of the pole had been all but decimated, and yet Wilbur didn’t stop, his axe slicing and hacking away at the figure in movements he’d practiced a million times over.

Tommy ought to be impressed and relieved at the new aptitude of his ally, but watching the display only seemed to make him feel more nauseous. Wilbur wasn’t supposed to be the bloodthirsty one of the group. He was the diplomat, the one touting the ideology of words over weapons. If even Wilbur was preparing to fight so brutally, there was no way the rapidly approaching war would end as fortunately as their initial one had. Maybe – maybe people would end up dying. 

A rush of unease washed over Tommy, and he set down his food abruptly, realising he no longer had an appetite. The baked potato was untouched, he’d barely scraped at its skin with his teeth. A wave of disappointment settled in the rebel’s mind.

“You having a lunch break already?” That was the sound of Technoblade arriving. Tommy felt a blanket of relief settle over him as Wilbur finally put the practice axe away, laying it beside the fence pole with a breath.

Tommy turned to look at his oldest brother, shuffling around in his seat. He looked as neutral as usual, royal cloak draped around his shoulders and a large, threatening sword strapped to his back. In his hands were two bags, filled to the brim with something bulky.

“Whoa, big man,” he heard himself say. “What’s in the bags?”  
Hefting one on the table, the pink-haired warrior let the contents spill on the surface.

“Iron,” he replied matter-of-factly. “Can’t get more diamond yet, so I got us the next best thing. Maybe we can fortify our doors with it, I dunno. It’s the best I could do today.”

“We’re not staying here long enough to need to do that, Techno.” Wilbur cut in, voice flat. He strolled over to the table, hands in pockets. Tommy realised with a jolt of surprise that his face had acquired a long, threatening scar that ran over his nose and under his chin. That hadn’t been there a few days ago. Was it acquired on the run to Pogtopia? 

“I don’t know about you,” Techno responded, moving to pick the spilled hardware back up, “but I’d rather have too much iron than no iron.” He hefted the bag in his grip again with a soft grunt.

There was a moment of silence as Wilbur leveled a look at his older brother, before shrugging dismissively, an aura of involuntary authority settling on his shoulders. “You’re right.” He stepped back to allow Techno access to the communal chest. “I’ll start smelting it later. Your help is appreciated, Techno.”  
His words were so cold.

At that, Techno left, disappearing in the direction of his potato farm. He spent crazy amounts of time in there, but then again, he’d always been the type for repetitive tasks. If it helped Pogtopia, it was worth it.

“You’ve got a scar on your face,” Tommy blurted out, looking at Wilbur cautiously. The leader flinched at the words, before reaching to his face slowly, running his hands over it in an attempt to identify the scar location.

“It’s not bad, is it?” he asked warily, turning to Tommy. “Tell me it’s not bad.”

It was quite bad.

“It, um. Makes you look experienced?” (It makes you look scary, Tommy thought, but he suppressed that thought. Somehow, he didn’t think Wilbur wanted to hear that.)

Something in Wilbur’s eyes darkened at the realisation, and he leant against the wood of the table with a deep, deep sigh.  
Tommy felt his spine stiffen. “Hey, man, it’s not that bad! It’s cool, I swear!” he began to reason, words rushing out in rapids as they usually did when he was under stress. 

“…Are you frightened of me, Tommy?”  
The question came out of the blue, catching Tommy completely off guard. He sounded concerned, maybe genuinely guilty at the idea that he was scary. 

Despite himself, Tommy felt his heart ache. Suddenly, Wilbur didn’t look like a war veteran anymore, someone who was preparing with anger for his next big battle. His face had softened into a distant melancholy, eyelids drooping as he turned his gaze away from Tommy’s.

The teen scoffed. “What, me? Scared of you? You’re – you’re my bro! We, we fought that war together, I’d never be scared of you!” He was rambling again; in hindsight, Tommy was an awful liar, and he realised with a sting how transparent he was being when he saw Wilbur withdraw into himself, eyebrows furrowing.

“I see,” he said quietly, a heavy silence settling over the two. Tommy rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, the atmosphere suddenly much more emotional for his liking.

“It’s just-“ he began, cutting himself off. “Well, you know. You’re so distant. And persistent. Everything was nicer in L’Manberg. And.. And now you’re changing, and, and, and we’re on the run, and it’s all so much—” A rush of sadness caught Tommy off guard, and he choked on a sob, leaning forward in his seat limply.

Through blurry eyes, he watched Wilbur turn in shock, raw concern shimmering in his eyes, before his expression softened, and he reached to place a comforting hand on his shoulder. Without thinking, Tommy leaned into his brother’s touch, realising with a start that he hadn’t been reassured like this for a solid few months now.

“It’s okay,” Wilbur soothed, like he used to back before L’Manburg rose. “It’s okay. I’m here, I- We may be on the run, but I’ll be here for you.”

Tommy met Wilbur’s worried gaze, feeling warm tears bubble in the corner of his eyes. “Will you?” he asked, voice barely a whisper, a far cry from his usual boisterous volume. His eyes wandered for a fraction of a second, laying on the beat-up form of the practice axe before they shot back to rest on his older brother.

The brief distraction didn’t slip the notice of Wilbur, and in a swift motion, Tommy found himself pulled into a tight hug, the slender arms of his brother curling protectively around his torso. The teenager leaned into the contact, burying his head in the crook of his neck as the tears finally spilled over.

“Yes,” he heard Wilbur speak, a tremble slipping into his voice. “I swear on my life, Tommy. I will always be there for you. I’ll never leave you.”

\--

_“I will be here for you.”_

Tommy felt his heart still as he watched the lifeless form of his brother slump to the rubble-wrecked ground, red pooling around him slowly. This – Things weren’t supposed to end this way. They’d won the war, they’d won their nation back – so why? Why?

Phil looked horrified, stumbling away from the scene with unsightly splatters of blood sprayed up his front. That was Wilbur’s blood, Tommy thought with a surge of anger, his vision blurring at the sight of it. It was everywhere, coating the walls, covering the ruins – and in the centre of it lay Wilbur himself, eyes glossy and lifeless, his mouth quirked into a sickening smile.

_”I swear on my life, Tommy.”_

Tommy wasn’t sure who he hated more: his brother, or himself. Wilbur had lied to him, to the entire rebellion. He’d blown up everything Tommy had ever worked for – why wouldn’t he hate him? He felt his hands ball into fists at his sides, shivering almost imperceptibly. Wilbur was a selfish bastard in his life, and he’d died like one, too. Tommy wanted to feel pleased at his just death, but instead of satisfaction, there was only pain.

His brother had been suffering. Tommy knew it, Techno knew it. So, why hadn’t Tommy stepped in? Why hadn’t he helped him more? The guilt was more overwhelming than the anger – if there even was any anger left inside him anymore. Wilbur had been sad, and scared, and confused this entire time, just like Tommy.

And, like the blinded child he was, Tommy had failed to see that, and he’d watched his idol walk towards his own death with a smile on his face.  
It was always far too easy to forget that Wilbur had feelings, too.

_”I will always be there for you.”_

Tommy felt an empty sob run through his body at the thought of his brother’s words, tears threatening to spill as the chaos finally picked back up around him.

_”I’ll never leave you.”_

(Why did you have to lie, Wilbur?)

**Author's Note:**

> LOL. Sorry. If you're reading this, and have ideas for what the hell I should do for Season 2 of the SMP, do let me know, yeah?
> 
> Standard rules apply; if you see a typo, no you don't.  
> Follow me on Tumblr @general-light! :)


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